Rosalyn
by SeshatHawk
Summary: How I think Rogue's life went before Mystique.


Disclaimer: Rogue, Mystique, and Destiny belong to Marvel. I am borrowing them without permission. Isabelle, Danny, and Mr. and Mrs. Taylor belong to me, as do the plot and story. Please don't steal them. I am making no profit from this story.

Author's Note: This is one of my many ideas about how Rogue's life before Mystique went.

Rosalyn

I sat on the sofa, watching T.V., wishing more than ever that Isabelle hadn't left my side. She was so good to me, my beloved twin. I loved her so much that I didn't even care that she hadn't told me that she was a mutant, as long as she helped me with my own abilities. Izzy tried to explain to me how it could be good, how it could be fun, but I was still reeling from my first experience with my mutant powers. I could still feel Danny there, inside of my head. Sometimes, I woke up in the night, not knowing who I was. It was the most terrible feeling I'd ever had.

One of the shadows came away from the wall, threateningly. I flinched away, but then I saw that it was only Dad. Or was it? I hardly knew who I was anymore, much less the people around me. "Hi, Daddy," I said glumly, only glancing away from the T.V. for a second.

He frowned down at me. "Rosalyn," he said warningly. "Your momma told me this afternoon that you got into a fight at school. This true?"

I nodded wordlessly.

"What do you think you're doing, getting into fights like that with the boys? Don't you know any better?"

I didn't feel like arguing with Daddy tonight. "I'm sorry, Dad," I apologized, without looking away from the T.V.

Dad went over and switched the T.V. off. "I also heard that the kid's unconscious and hardly breathing."

I stared up at the dark form of my father nervously. "Did you?" I asked, trembling. I didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," he said. "Your momma said that you're a mutant."

I discovered I couldn't meet his gaze. "Yeah, that's what she says."

"Rosalyn...I never thought I would say this," Dad said disapprovingly. "But I am ashamed to call you my child."

Never had he said something so cruel to me. My head snapped up. I was shocked and hurt--how could he say something like that to me? "What?" I whispered.

"Just knowing that there's mutant filth in this house makes me sick," he snapped. "Rosalyn, I have never been more disappointed in you."

Tears burned my eyes. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean to. I can't help the way that I'm born."

"But you don't have to go around killing people, do you, girl?"

Indignant, I jumped to my feet. "I didn't kill Danny! All I did was...borrow some parts of him for a while! And it wasn't my fault! Momma says I couldn't have helped it!"

"I don't care what your mother says," he snarled coldly. "You're a parasite, Rosalyn. You suck the life out of everything you touch."

I started to cry. "Please don't say that," I begged around the lump in my throat. "Please, Dad. Can't you try to understand?"

"Mutants are the lowest form of life," he said. "That makes you filth. You aren't my daughter any more." He glared at me, one last time, and then turned away.

I couldn't take it any more. I had to make him understand. I was alone and scared, and I didn't know what I was doing. I just needed some help. I reached out and grabbed his arm, to keep him from leaving. "Dad, please," I began.

Then It happened. All of a sudden, I was filled with rage and anger and hatred. I had to get rid of the mutant. I had to tell her just what I thought of her. She was bad and terrible, she was dirt, how could she be living in my house? She made me feel sick. I wanted her gone. I clapped my hands over my ears. The thoughts thundering through my head had a man's voice to them. "Stop it!" I shrieked, trying to drown out the voice. "Stop talking to me! That isn't me! I'm not like that!"

But the voice kept on going, drowning out my other thoughts. Mutants were sickening, deformed life, a disgusting thing to crawl on the face of the earth. They had to be gone, rid of. And now my own daughter was a mutant. How could this happen to me? Everyone likes me, but she's the one who goes around picking fights and putting kids in comas. Before long, she'll be killing people. And everyone's going to blame me. It's always the parents who get blamed for things like this. Why can't she be like Isabelle? Everyone likes Isabelle, she's cute and perfect and funny and you wouldn't find her murdering people like that.

Hands grabbed me and shook me so violently that the voice stopped for a moment. I did a double take when I saw a man's face glaring at me--wasn't that my face? "What do you think you're doing?" the man roared at me. "Do you think you can get away with that in my house?"

I was crying, afraid. But men don't cry, not if they want people to like them. I was floundering inside my own mind. Who am I? What happened to me? Why does he have my face? "Who am I?" I asked the man, hoping that he could give me some answers.

"A renegade!" the man shouted. "You're a demon! You're a monster! I'm ashamed to call you my daughter!"

"I'm not a woman!" I bawled. "Stop bullying me!" I wished he would stop and give me my face back. I wanted it back. Was that so much to ask? What kind of person would just take another person's face just because they felt like it? I was a busy man, I had things to tend to. I had to take care of the animal-witch that I called a daughter. That filth, that dirt, that slime.

"After all I've done for you!" the man shouted angrily. Then he shoved me, until I was sprawling on the ground, on my stomach.

Dazed, I looked up at him to find him removing his belt. Somewhere deep inside of me, alarms went off. Again! It's going to happen again! He's going to hit me, and beat me, until I bleed! Somewhere underneath that man's personality that was filling my mind, I felt alarmed and afraid. If only I could get to my feet and run away--but real men didn't run away. Real men took whatever punishments were given. They kept their heads up. They stood up, tall and proud.

The first lash came like fire on my back. I screamed, but only once. Men had to take their punishments. Real men didn't scream. Or cry. But the pain was awful. It had to stop. Why wouldn't it stop? I hated pain, all of the other kids were always picking on me, especially that skunk-haired weirdo. Why had she taken my life? Why had she taken my mind? What did I ever do to her?

For one brief moment, I was myself again. Dad and Danny's thoughts kept fighting to be the strongest. I couldn't remember who I was. That was the most frightening thing of all. Then came the belt on my back again. I screamed and cried, and shouted, "Stop it, Dad, please stop it!" I only knew, somewhere inside of my mind, that he was my father, but I didn't know who I was. I couldn't remember my name...

Danny. My name was Danny. No. It was Phillip. No. Pain on my back again. I struggled inwardly with the other two minds floating in my own, and outwardly with the pain that kept raining down on me. "WHO AM I?" I screamed, afraid suddenly to lose everything that I had ever had...if I hadn't lost it already...

Eventually, I realized that the pain on my back was old, and that he was no longer whipping me with the belt. I couldn't stop shaking as I got to my feet. The man was watching me with an angry glint in his eyes. "Ready for more?" he asked, holding up the belt.

I stared at him. He looked familiar, maybe a little like me, but for my life I couldn't remember who he was. "Will you tell me who I am?" I asked, carefully. My back ached and felt damp in a few places. My entire body hurt. "I can't remember."

"Mutant scum!" he shouted, and cracked the belt again. Abruptly, I knew who I was. I was Phillip Taylor, and I hated mutants. Those creatures just walked around as though they owned the place, saving lives and expecting things in return. Some of them were just disturbing.

No. I wasn't Phillip Taylor. I was a woman. A girl. And just as I realized this, the end of my father's belt hit my cheek. I stumbled back a few paces, then touched the sore place where he had hit me. "Wait," I choked. "Dad...please...help me."

"I wouldn't help you if you were the last creature on earth."

"You're my father!" I cried, more out of discovery than as an accusation. This fact I held close to me. Mean and cruel he might be, but he was my father. I was certain of this. He was the girl's father. And I was the girl. Not Phillip, or Danny. "You're my father!" I repeated happily.

"No longer!" he snarled. "Get out of my house, you rogue!"

Confused, I headed for the door. Was that what I was? Was I a rogue? Then the belt hit my back again, with a raw pain that made me shout. Frightened suddenly, afraid of being beaten again, I ran for the door. I ran out the door. I ran off into the night, completely blind of where I was going. Just so long as I was leaving the man with the belt behind. He wouldn't hurt me any more.

The next thing I knew, there were trees and bright sunlight all around me. I sat up slowly, my body aching from bruises and from sleeping on the ground. For I had slept on the ground, of that I was sure. There was something important I had to be remembering...something important...Then I blinked. I didn't know who I was. I had vague memories of a man beating someone...or was it me doing the beating? I didn't know and the fact that I couldn't remember made me afraid. I touched the back of my head, trying to feel for a bump or something else that would have given me amnesia, but I found nothing.

I got up and looked around. I was in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. Apparently, I had spent the night here. But wait--I didn't like sleeping on the ground. The ground was cold and hard and there were bugs everywhere. Or was it the other way around? Camping out made a real man out of you. That and hunting. Wait--I wasn't a man, and I was sure I didn't mind sleeping on the ground. Yet there were voices in my head, familiar ones that I couldn't place, telling me otherwise.

I wandered around until I found a pond. Then I peeked into it. Maybe if I just saw my face, I would know who I was...

I saw a puffy-eyed girl with a large purple bruise on her right cheek. I saw auburn hair with a vertical white stripe running through it. I saw bright green eyes. I saw very feminine features, a slightly turned-up nose, and pouty lips. But I might as well have been looking at someone else's face, because I didn't recognize it.

I got up again and began to walk. I walked through the woods, occasionally listening to the voices in my head talking, and sometimes doing the things they thought I should be doing. It was as though I was on drugs (or the way I had heard drugs worked). I would blank out for ages, wandering as the voices said I should. I would be completely convinced of who I was and what I was doing. Then, I would suddenly snap back to myself, an amnesiac once more, and hopelessly lost. One line kept running through my head: "Get out of my house, you rogue!" That was something for me to consider as I wandered aimlessly through the trees. Was I a rogue? Was I only made for mischief? How would this man know? Was he certain? Could I be certain?

Eventually, I came to a town. It didn't look familiar at all to me, but then, nothing did. I went into the town, enduring the stares from the people around me. I knew I looked awful. But I didn't care. It didn't matter what they thought. I just needed a place to stay. I needed rest. After a little while of wandering around the town, I realized I had no money, no way to pay for a place to stay. So I sat down on the ground, just around the corner from a little café. I was just inside an alley. I could stay here forever, if I needed to. I could stay here until I died. And I deserved to die, didn't I? I was a mutant, wasn't I? And didn't mutants deserve to die?

I clutched my head. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" I snarled through my teeth at the voices. I had come to identify one of them as a grouchy man who didn't like anything. The other voice was a younger boy who pretended to be strong and brave but was really a wimp. Was I going crazy? People who heard voices were supposed to be crazy. But I didn't think I was crazy...

On the other hand, what did I know?

I pulled my knees up to my chest and started to cry. I knew that I had never been in worse conditions in my life. There was a vague memory of a girl close to me, but I couldn't even remember what she looked like, or her name. Everything in my life was gone, and missing. I didn't even know who I was. I didn't even have my mind to keep me company anymore. Just those two stupid voices. I was alone, cold, and frightened. And I was a mutant. I knew I wouldn't last long.

"Is something the matter?"

I jumped to my feet quickly, and wiped my tears away. A pretty woman with black hair and dark eyes, wearing a blue blazer and a matching skirt and pumps stood before me. She scarcely seemed to notice my condition, or the fact that I was crying. "Perhaps I could help," she said gently.

I sniffed and would have backed away if I wasn't already against the wall. "Do you know me?" I asked hopefully.

She seemed a little surprised by this. "A little," she said. "But you don't know me. My name is Raven Darkholme. I believe you're in a bit of a situation, aren't you?" She held out her hand for me to shake.

I ignored her hand. "Maybe," I said uncertainly. I wasn't going to trust anyone until I knew what they wanted.

"I can take you in," Raven said to me. "You would like that, wouldn't you? A place to call home, loving parents, food and clothing every day. My friend Irene Adler and I would be glad to have you in our home."

"Why?" I demanded harshly. "What's the catch?"

She smiled. "There's no catch, girl. You just look as though you could use a little help, to get back on your feet. You can come and live with us for as long as you like. Our home will be yours."

"No one wants me," I said. That voice, telling me to get out of his house, was still in my head. Whoever had said that to me obviously hadn't wanted me. Why should this pretty woman want me?

"I do," she said, and held out her hand, palm up. She wanted me to take it. "Irene and I want you."

I stared at her hand. "Why should I trust you?" I asked at last. "Everyone who ever trusts me gets hurt." Of course, I didn't know that for sure, but it didn't feel like a lie.

"Because I'm not what I seem, either," Raven said. Then her skin rippled--once, like a shimmering mirror. She began to change. Before my eyes, she turned from a pretty, mid-twenties, dark-haired, dark-eyed woman to an elegant, blue-skinned, red-haired woman with eyes that were completely yellow. No pupils, no whites, nothing. She looked to be about in her thirties. She wasn't pretty, not really, but she had a sort of thing that drew one's eye--and it wasn't just the blue skin. She was elegant. "Because I'm a mutant, too," she said. Her hand was still outstretched to me.

I was afraid to touch her hand. What if I hurt her the way I had hurt everyone else in my life? I tried hard to remember just what it was that I was thinking of, but the memory skipped away quickly. I focused on her hand again. Then I looked at her, at her blue skin and yellow eyes.

"You--you're like me," I whispered. All at once, I felt a warm flood of relief spill through me. She was a mutant, too. She was accepting me. She would take me in. She would love me like a mother. She was so beautiful, in her own way, able to change her shape. I was awed by her, shocked by my discovery, and overall relieved. I would never have to be alone again. Raven would help me. I started to cry again, but this time, I was happy. I threw myself at her, flung my arms around her neck and cried into the shoulder of her lovely blue blazer. "I'm not alone, I'm not alone," I cried happily.

Raven seemed somewhat surprised by this, but she just stroked my hair and soothed me. I cried until my eyes felt dry and gritty, then raised my head. Raven gently took my face in her hands. "Is it settled, then?" she asked me. "Will you come with me?"

I nodded. "Yeah." It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't thanked her, and decided that I should. "Thank you," I said. "I don't have anywhere to go, no one to care about me."

"That's all going to change," Raven said, in such a reassuring tone that I wanted to curl up in her arms and just let her hold me. "What's your name, child?"

I quested around for that information, and found nothing that I wanted to trust. I just heard that man's voice: "Get out of my house, you rogue!" I considered it for a moment. Then I said, "Rogue. My name is Rogue."

Raven only looked mildly surprised at my choice of name. "Very well, Rogue," she said, and put an arm around my shoulder. She gently guided me out of the alley and towards a waiting car. "Let's go and get you settled."


End file.
